The First Returning
by Lemon Zinger
Summary: The hobbits and Gandalf are making their way back to the Shire, but something happens that jolts them out of their peacefulness and reminds them that they did not escape unscathed from the journey. One-shot.


Gandalf was in the lead and we followed, mostly reminiscing as we began to recognize our surroundings more and more. I was excited to go home. I had faced so much and yet we were all heading home, the world a little better than when we had left.

I was watching Frodo closely. He was quiet, but then Merry and Pippin were eagerly talking about the Green Dragon, hardly giving anyone else a chance. I wondered if he was all right, but assumed he was just tired still from the long journey. It would not be easy to forget the horrors we had witnessed, but I was already feeling better as we neared home.

We came to the Ford of Bruinen and urged our mounts across. Gandalf had reached the other shore, with Merry and Pippin following. Frodo was behind them and I slightly behind him. My pony stumbled and I looked down, a little nervous about the river. Thankfully though, Bill had regained his balance quickly enough.

Suddenly, I heard Frodo gasp and looked up in time to see him slipping from his pony's back. All my fears of the river fled as I dismounted quickly and rushed to where Frodo was struggling in the water.

To my dismay, his face was twisted in pain and he was clutching his chest, over the spot he had been stabbed by the ringwraith a year ago. I was nearly shoulder-deep in water and was having trouble getting footing on the slippery rocks beneath. We were at the deepest part of the crossing, and I wondered if I could make it while also supporting Frodo.

It didn't matter. I grabbed him before he went under again and threw his left arm around my shoulder. Like on Mount Doom, I found strength I didn't know I possessed until I needed it.

I stumbled towards the bank, just as Merry and Pippin came splashing out to help. They took him from me quietly, suddenly serious as we scrambled onto the shore. Gandalf was at our sides in a moment, inspecting Frodo, who moaned with pain when we moved him. I noticed Bill had loyally followed me across and Frodo's horse had come up too.

I caught Merry's eye and pointed to the horses. He nodded and took Pippin to help him round up our four mounts. I waited; tense, as Gandalf looked over Frodo. He had taken Frodo's shirt off, but kept him well covered so he wouldn't get cold.

"His wound is bothering him again. There is nothing we can do but wait and make him comfortable." Gandalf said.

"But I thought he was healed?" I asked, my voice cracking as I looked at Frodo. "Why must he relive that pain?"

"It is a burden he never should have had to bear. Have no fear though, he is in no mortal danger." Gandalf tried to comfort me.

I swallowed hard and sat close by my friend. Pippin made a makeshift bed using all our blankets to soften it and we gently moved Frodo there to rest. He moaned and was restless in his sleep, much as I tried to soothe him. I gently rubbed his arm and began a short song for him, but within a few moments his shifting had turned to panicked attempts to roll or get up.

He was still asleep, but caught in some twisted dream. Trying to be careful of his wound I tried to wake him.

"Frodo, mister Frodo wake up." I called to him, trying to stir him as gently as possible.

Gandalf came about his other side and put one hand on Frodo's brow and I heard him utter something softly. Frodo was wide-eyed and awake in the next moment. I was too slow to stop him as he sat up and hugged me tightly. His breathing was rapid and I could feel his heart pounding.

"It's alright mister Frodo, its over." I told him over and over.

Eventually Frodo went limp and he sucked in air as though he was in pain and I had to gently lower him back down. My hands went over his torso and I felt his ribs still protruded far more than I liked. He was still weak and strained from the long journey, try as I had to lift his spirits and better his health.

"I'm fine Sam." Frodo said, back to the calm, composed hobbit that I recognized. "It was all just so real still." He looked away from me, up at the dimming sky and frowned. "We've lost a lot of time."

"Nevermind it." Gandalf said, backing away. "It's not as if we are in any great hurry." He assured us. "We'll rest tonight and continue in the morning if you are up for it."

My stomach rumbled and I realized I had completely forgotten about a meal for us. "I'll start making something." I said, standing and turning around. However, I found Merry already bending over a fire with a somewhat amused smile on his face. "Don't worry there Sam, I already took care of it." He said. "I just really couldn't wait any longer. There's some here for you and Frodo too." He said.

Though I was hungry, I took Frodo's bowl first and went over, intending to feed him, but he would have none of it. "Just prop me up and let me do it Sam." He said stubbornly.

I didn't like it, but I did as he asked. Then I got my own bowl and ate for myself, staying close by his side while the younger two hobbits had a whispered conversation by the fire and Gandalf sat languidly by the riverbed and blew smoke rings into the air. Occasionally I caught him making other patterns that never ceased to amaze me.

Crickets chirped quietly in the tall grasses and I felt at ease for a moment. "It's a peaceful night." I remarked.

"It is indeed Sam." Frodo agreed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" I asked.

Frodo nodded. "Yes Sam, you mustn't worry over me so. It's something I will have to learn to handle. I'll ask for help when I need it, but don't mother me." He said.

I sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No, Sam, I appreciate what you're trying to do." Frodo said, putting a hand on my arm. "I am now and always have been grateful to have you by my side."

I met his gaze with a warm smile. "And I'm honored to be at yours."

* * *

**A/N: On the journey home, as it is recorded in the timeline in the back of RotK, Frodo began to feel his first return of pain on October 6, just after crossing the Ford of Bruinen.**


End file.
